


Queer Eye for the Snape Guy

by Alexis_Rockford



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Gen, Humor, LiveJournal Prompt, Makeover, One Shot, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Pre-Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Stand Alone, Stupidity, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 17:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15369618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexis_Rockford/pseuds/Alexis_Rockford
Summary: Albus Dumbledore will finally give the Defense Against the Dark Arts position to Severus Snape on one condition...Originally written as a Last Author Standing Challenge on Livejournal in 2010.





	Queer Eye for the Snape Guy

“The Defense Against the Dark Arts post is yours,” began Headmaster Dumbledore with a magnanimous gesture of his purple-clad arm.

The beetle-black eyes across with him glittered with anticipation. Finally, after all these years he would get his due.

“There is only one proviso,” Dumbledore continued. _His_ bright blue eyes sparkled with what could only be described as mischief.

“And that would be . . .?” Professor Snape asked in his usual drawn out manner. His hand quickly went to the pocket of his robe, where he clenched his wand between long bony fingers. He was quite prepared to fight for this job if it came down to it.

“You must get a-oh what’s that Muggle word for it?” Dumbledore scratched his beard in thought for what Snape felt an interminable amount of time. Finally, he snapped his fingers. “Ah, yes. A makeover.”

Severus Snape shook his head imperceptibly, trying to make sure that his greasy, black hair hadn’t impeded his hearing. “Pardon me, headmaster,” he said with all the charm of a rattlesnake. “But did you say ‘makeover’?” His fingers tightened over his wand as he awaited Dumbledore’s reply.

Dumbledore blinked several times in surprise, whether at himself or his companion was anyone’s guess. “Why, yes. I do believe I did.” He didn’t even attempt to hide his mirth at the sheer lunacy of the situation.

If Snape had been in his right mind, he would have whipped his wand out and Avada Kedavra’d him into the next county. But evidently, Dumbledore’s madness was catching, and he merely sighed in resignation. “What do I have to do first?”

Twenty minutes later, after being shoved into and out of a dozen wizard’s robes, Snape stood in front of one of the mirrored armoires in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He was attired in red from head to foot from a scarlet pointed hat to rust-coloured hobnail boots. His dress robes were so light in shade that they could almost be considered pink and the large floppy bowtie that served as their centerpiece was almost enough to make Snape physically ill. “Kill me now,” he muttered under his breath as Dumbledore flitted around him straightening and grooming.

“There,” Dumbledore finally said, standing back to admire his work. “Now we need to work on your hair.” He pulled his wand out and waved it at a nearby pair of scissors, which came flying at Snape’s head at a frightening speed.

“Do… not… cut… my… hair,” Snape said firmly, with the slightest tinge of threat in his voice.

Dumbledore pouted but returned the scissors to their proper place. “Spoilsport.” He pointed his wand at Snape’s head and murmured “ _Saetaugeo!_ ”

Snape’s hair suddenly became three inches longer. Then, Dumbledore dumped a bottle of sweet-smelling liquid onto his greasy head which immediately began to bubble. After a moment, he led Snape to a basin where he rinsed out the soap, dried his hair, and pulled it back from his face into a big shiny red bow. “Tada!” he pronounced, pushing him back toward the mirror.

Oh, the horror! Snape would have stabbed his eyes out with his own wand, but he had left it in his regular robes which were behind his torturer on the floor.

“On to sleepware!” Dumbledore announced in a voice that was far too excited. “Nightshifts are _so_ last century. How do you feel about boxers?”

“That does it!” Snape ripped the bow from his hair and yanked off the hideous bowtie. “No job is worth this kind of torture.” He shoved Dumbledore roughly aside and retrieved his precious black robes and the wand buried in their folds.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Dumbledore shook his head sadly. “Such a shame, really.” Suddenly, he brightened. “No matter. I as good as told Remus Lupin the position was his anyway.”

It took all of Snape’s willpower not to inflict an Unforgivable Curse onto his evil boss. “You mean, you weren’t really going to let me have it?” He said between clenched teeth.

“No, of course not,” Dumbledore laughed jovially. “What do you take me for? I just needed someone to model these new robes for me.”

“I’m going to kill you one of these days,” Snape said with a scowl.

Dumbledore smiled sadly. “I know, Severus. I know.” 


End file.
